Don't Let The Sun Catch You Crying
by cootiegirl
Summary: A day trip/mission to scope out a small rural town turns into something that Maka and Soul might not be able to handle after all. (Warning: may or may not include major character death.)


A/N: I don't know how I ended up writing about my favorite character in the history of ever _dying_, but somehow I did. You can throw rocks at me now.

The title is from the song "_Don't Let The Sun Catch You Crying_" by Gerry and the Pacemakers. Not quite the kind of jazz that I picture Soul listening to, but most jazz is good jazz and I thought this was a relevant song anyway.

* * *

_Soul, you absolute idiot, I'm going to _kill_ you,_ Maka grumbled to herself as she squelched through the marsh. Her boots were two or three inches deep in squishy mud, and if felt like she was spending more time trying to lift her feet out of the swamp than actually moving forward.

This was all his fault.

Him and Maka had been assigned to check on a small rural town to make sure everything was okay there. There had been a supposed outbreak of killings, and news like that traveled around fast. Just as a precaution, they were sent to see if there were any impure souls that were causing mayhem.

"Rural" was an understatement. It was in the middle of nowhere, for starters. There was nothing as far as the eye could see but dusty dirt roads, wetlands, and farms with skinny cows and broken fences and underfed chickens pecking hopefully around in the yellowed lawns. It seemed silly for any real trouble to happen here, since the pair hadn't even heard of this town before now. It was tiny and quiet and safe, most of the time. Nothing special to put its mark on the map.

Maka was gritting her teeth and very slowly making her way across the bog. It was Soul's idea to split up. He thought they'd cover more ground this way, and if they needed each other they could just yell at the top of their lungs or communicate through wavelengths. So far he'd reported nothing, her as well. No sign of any strange activity, nothing out of the norm, other than a few loose sheep who'd wandered into the marsh. Maka had tried to shoo them away, but they just sat there contentedly.

Deep in thought, she didn't notice that her left foot was ankle-deep and sinking fast. Growling, she tried to pull it out, but it was so stuck that it popped right out of her boot, leaving the thing behind in the wet ground and making her fly backwards onto her butt with only one sock on.

"_Tch_," she muttered. "This can't get any worse."

And then of course, a clap of thunder resounded with a loud crash, lightning pulsing in the suddenly electricity-filled air. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Rain like angry pellets of icy cold death pelted her coat, soaking all the way through her clothes and clinging to her skin.

_That jerk owes me so much ice cream when we get home_, she thought to herself, racing to jam on her shoe and run back to town. Triple cherry chocolate chip ice cream in a big bowl with whipped cream and sprinkles sounded really good right now, especially since she had been running on an empty stomach for almost a whole day.

Maybe they could share the bowl and make it a banana split. But no nuts. Nuts in ice cream? Ugh. Soul disagreed, but was willing to sacrifice a couple slivers of almond or peanut or whatever for a night in with his partner, not that he would say so. In fact, he would probably make a big deal out of it just to make her feel bad, and then he would grin and smear whipped cream on her nose.

Maka felt wistful. That would be so much nicer than being here in the rain, chilled to the bone and starving.

When they arrived this morning, Soul had dug a crushed energy bar out of his pocket, but she refused no matter how annoying the persisting tummy grumbles were. He bit off a piece and handed her the rest, saying something about how she needed to keep up her strength, although it was kind of hard to understand with a large chunk of peanut butter granola in his mouth. She, of course, didn't have a choice since she knew he would literally stuff it down her throat if he had to. He was stubborn like that. (But still not as stubborn as her.)

By the time she got to dry land, Maka's shoes were squishing as they slapped against the street. There was something weird about this storm, and it gave her a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach like a bowling ball filled with anxiety and dread. The sheep, far off in the distance, bleated nervously. She thought of singed wool and a pile of sizzling, charred farm animals and hoped that they wouldn't get hit by lightning.

She didn't know where Soul was. It wasn't too big of a place, they couldn't get lost. They would find each other eventually. She prayed sooner than later. This weather was killing her, and waves of nausea threatened to knock her to her knees. She stumbled and grabbed a light post for support.

"Maka!"

She looked around wildly for her partner, but he was no where to be seen. His voice was a cry, and she thought with an immense amount of fury that if anything happened to him, if anyone had hurt him, she was going to kick the shit out of them. Powered by a new surge of energy, she kept running, frantically calling his name out into the empty streets and listening for a response.

"Soul!"

"_Maka_!" He sounded closer now, but distressed, like something had him by its great big talons, ready to tear open his soft skin and-

"Soul!" Maka tripped over her own feet and scrambled to get back up, ignoring the stinging gravel embedded in her knees. "Where are you?" Her heart pounded fast in her chest, growing quicker and quicker with each second that passed, each second where her best friend could be getting tortured or decapitated or shot or injured in any way. "Soul,_ answer me_! WHERE ARE YOU?!" She was bawling at the top of her lungs now, breathing so hard it felt like her lungs were going to burst.

The next noise was a scream, a long piercing sound that echoed in the alleyways, but instead of just a wordless shout, she heard "_HELP ME, I'M IN PAIN_." A lot of pain. He never verbalized if he was hurting unless it was really bad, or he just wanted attention. Silent and steady, that was him. Now he was crying like a wounded dog, and it broke Maka's heart. He was hurt and she couldn't find him, she couldn't help him, and it was maddening.

_Where are you, dumbass? You better not die on me, got it?_

She followed his soul wavelength, trying her best not to crash into any buildings or walls or the sharp edges of the picket fences that all of these houses seemed to have.

_I have to get to Soul I have to get toSoulIhavetogettoSoulIHAVETOGETTOSOUL_.

It led her to what looked to have once been a tourist shop. Postcards with tumbleweeds and horses and ancient-looking saltwater taffy in barrels, dusty snowglobes and t-shirts with cartoon cowboys, sticks of some kind of jerky in clear plastic boxes, hand-pulled caramels and bookmarks shaped like cacti; "_buy one get one free_."

She knew better than to call out "hello?" and tiptoed quietly past the register and the bobble headed toy figurines of "Rusty the Rancher."

It wasn't until she heard the familiar groan when she saw that the snowglobes were broken, glitter water dripping all over the floor from the shattered glass. Someone had swiped a row of them off of the table, or thrown them.

Maka's head turned around to see them in the next room over, and it was perfect timing because then she got to watch as several spikes as long as fishing rods and as needle sharp as ice picks impaled her weapon.

A strangled scream was wrenched from her throat, and she didn't even realize that she was staring straight at her with hardened indigo eyes because she was too busy paying attention to Soul.

He had dropped to his knees with a thud on the floor, and the witch just looked on from her spot next to him.

* * *

Sea urchin witch? Is that a joke?

_It was definitely not a joke, because three and a half foot long spines had just been shot out of her palms._

_This whole thing was a trap. Some witch had lured them in, and they thought that they were up against nothing more than an impure soul or something along those lines._

_Soul had gone into town while Maka checked out the marshes and surrounding areas, and something was pulling him into a tourist shop. Expecting something weaker, he just braced himself with an arm of metal points, waiting for the enemy to attack._

_But they didn't. So he went into the building further, and discovered a bigger room, maybe a storage unit or a garage or something, and what met him in there almost made him drop the f-bomb for the sixth time that day._

_She was plain-looking, nothing too remarkable except for her short, spiky purple-black hair, matching dress, and cold eyes that regarded Soul as just an opponent, and maybe not even that. She looked at him like a predator would look at their prey. The side of her mouth pulled up in a smirk. Even her smile looked prickly._

_"Why are you doing this? The treaty isn't over. We're still at peace. Witches aren't supposed to do this anymore. We aren't supposed to hunt you anymore."_

_"Not all of us agreed to the treaty, little boy," she sneered. "Some of our kind isn't as blind as the others."_

_"Some of… wait, you mean, a rebellion? Some of you are starting a rebellion?"_

_"It's no fun to live alongside humans." Her sharp nails danced along his shoulder. "Silly, silly humans. We've grown bored. If everything is back to the way it was, we can cause all the trouble we want! No more rules. It was better when we were trying to kill each other, wouldn't you agree?" Her fingers dug into his skin, making him bite his lip. _

_"Why did you bring me and Maka here?"_

_"To get the attention from the DWMA, of course. Once they hear that witches and weapons and their meisters are fighting again, they'll have to call off the truce. Plus, they won't be able to refuse. There's more of us than there are of them."_

_"Uh, h-how many, exactly?"_

_"Hm, enough. A couple of us should be keeping your little girlfriend busy out there. It's a shame about the storm. Must be hard to see with all of that pesky rain in the way."_

Maka_. Soul's stomach lurched. "You made the storm? How?"_

_"Well, not me, but yes. Witches do have gifts, if you weren't aware."_

_"Believe me, I am," Soul muttered. "So your plan is to kill us?"_

_"Yes."_

_"No offense, but if we're dead and you can't do it, then who's gonna tell the Academy of your grand mastermind plan?"_

_The witch's eyes flashed, her hair lifting up to resemble actual spines like the animal she was. _

_"There's always a flaw, huh?"_

_"Shut up, you little brat. You don't know what you're talking about."_

_"If you just let us go, I swear we can tell Lord Death what you want," Soul tried to bargain._

_"I'm not as gullible as you think I am,_ Death Scythe._"_

_"I know! I don't lie. I promise. Just let us go."_

_She looked conflicted for a second, but silently raised her hand in front of her chest, palms outward._

_"_Urchin Spike_."_

_"Please," Soul said, dodging the point and releasing one of his own. From his shoulder to the tips of his fingers was now smooth, gleaming metal. Comfortably falling into the tingly asleep feeling that came after transforming, he put it in front of his face to deflect another one of her barbs. "You don't need to do this."_

_"Yes, I do!" Her eyes spat fire. "You and the rest of your puny race have been hunting us for centuries. It's time to fight back."_

_"You have been," Soul said. "Witches were killed for a reason. You did horrible things to innocent people, and we needed to stop you."_

_"What you needed was to stay out of our business," she hissed._

_"I don't want to fight you. I want to help you. We can help you sort out any problem you've got, you just have to-"_

_"Stop talking!" she screeched. "Stop it! You're tricking me!" She was crazed, shooting the spines at random, and they clattered onto the floor and stuck themselves in the wall, spearing a calendar right in the heart and shattering more momentos._

_"Listen to me! You're better than this, I know you are!"_

_"You worthless creature," she said spitefully, "your words are nothing but lies."_

_Soul was about to reply when one of her points finally found its place in his chest cavity, digging all the way into his flesh, clear through to the other side. Pain blinded him for a moment, and he let out a yell that made the witch leer at him with satisfaction. He felt a tug in his gut that had nothing to do with the_ fucking spear sticking out of his ribs._ Maka. She could sense him, she was close enough to feel his soul now! He tried calling out to her, but she didn't respond._

_"This is nothing compared to what we're going to do to all of you."_

_"That sucks," Soul wheezed, "because I don't think you'll be alive long enough to see that happen."_

_"Disgusting earthworm!" she screamed, fists balled up. "You'll be the first to die under the reign of the witches."_

_Smartass comments wouldn't help in this situation. He needed Maka. Where was she? The rain was pounding on the roof, so he couldn't listen for the light footsteps that he could tell were hers from a mile away. He would just have to wait and stall her a little longer._

_"The reign of the witches hasn't started yet." He coughed. "Lord Death is still ruling. You'll have to get through him first."_

_"I… I am not afraid. We are not afraid."_

_"You should be. Have you seen the guy when he's angry? Yeesh."_

Come on, Maka_, he thought desperately._

_The witch's eyes narrowed into slits. "I think it's time for you to go now."_

_Soul grunted from exertion as he threw a wooden chair at her, which she then split in half, leaving it teetering on two legs. It fell over, and she lunged at him again._

_Fighting with a regular impure soul was as graceful as a waltz. This was chaotic, all-over-the-place, without a melody and nearly impossible to guess what the witch's next move was. One minute she was waiting for him to step on a spike, and the next, she was holding one to his neck._

_"I would say sorry," she said, her lulling purr making him tense up, "but I'm not. See you never, Death scythe."_

_"Wait!" he shouted. His nerves were electric, his heart leaping. Maka was here! His meister had come to save him after all!_

_And then suddenly she was there in the doorway, looking wet and cold and miserable, and when she saw how the witch had him in her grasp, straightened up like she had been shocked._

_"Mak-"_

_There was a weird whooshing, and then a squishing sound. Maka screamed like the world had just erupted into flames, and it might as well have, because when he looked down, there were several spines sticking out of his chest. He could feel them inside of his body, and then his legs gave out and he collapsed._

* * *

"_SOOOOOOOOOOUL_!"

"He's dying. There's no use in wasting tears." The witch's voice was steel and ice.

"No," Maka cried, falling over herself trying to get to him. She cradled his head. "No, no, no, no, _nonononononono_."

"Leave while you still can," she said coolly. "I'd rather not have the blood on two kids on my hands in one night. At least not like this. It's just messy."

Maka choked back a sob and lifted a hand to her lips, but it was covered in his blood and she tasted metal in her mouth and almost gagged. She wanted to vomit. His granola bar was the only thing in her stomach. She didn't have the guts to tell her off, or even stand. Her legs were as dead as her brain.

"Get him out of here. I think the DWMA will find the fact that their best weapon is deceased, well, surprising. Pass on the message, dear. We'll be in control soon. Who needs madness when you have witches?" She left the room with a cold chill that sat heavily in Maka's heart. She wondered why she exited so quickly, but didn't care. If she came back, Maka was done for.

She wasn't holding back her tears now, her entire body was shaking as she smoothed the sweaty strands of hair back from his forehead. "Soul, you're going to be fine. You're going to be just fine. I'll fix you right up, okay?"

His breaths were rattling exhales. He moved to touch the wound.

"Don't," Maka said.

Soul's mouth formed her name, but he couldn't get the word out and looked grief stricken because of it.

"_Don't_," she repeated. "Don't talk. Just try and stay awake, all right?"

He tried to swallow and nod, but she shushed him and examined his broken body further.

"You're fine," she said again. "You're gonna be- Soul!"

His eyes rolled back into his head.

"Hey, look at me. Soul, look at me _right now_." Even her most feared Meister voice wasn't enough. He stayed limp.

"Wake up," she sobbed, "please, Soul, wake up. You c-can't do this to me."

His pulse was as shallow as the dry creek beds back home.

She wanted to be home so badly. She wanted to curl up her weapon and laugh about cheesy sitcoms on the TV and hit him when he tried to flick popcorn on her face and stare at him when he thought she wasn't looking, watching him chew thoughtfully, swallow, and wipe a butter-greased hand on his pants before changing the channel.

Maka was just _furious_ now. This was all his idea, and these were the consequences.

"Wake up! You idiot, I told you that we shouldn't split up! You're always the one who knows what to do! I'm supposed to be the reckless one! What happened? Why did you say that? This is all your fault, that you're _dying_…" Her voice broke on the last word, and she weeped into her hands, rocking back and forth on the wood panel flooring that was stained with crimson and smelled like iron.

"I need you," she whispered, gripping his hand and trying to keep his fingers from losing their warmth. "I won't last one second without you. I wish it was me. I wish it was me laying there. You would be fine, you would be able to move on, you would find a new meister who could handle your sarcasm and your arrogance and everything that you thought I hated but I actually loved, and I should be the one on the floor, damn it, not the one who has to see you like this. I hate you." She kept talking through her blurred vision. _"I hate you._"

Soul didn't stir. The mere sight of those _things_ sticking in his chest like flagpoles from the witch's victory made her want to be sick. She tore them out. Blood flowed freely from the holes, and he made the tiniest noise like he was trying to breathe but didn't know how.

Maka touched his cheek. "Soul! Hey! Look at me! Wake up, come on, you can do it! Just open your eyes!"

His limp fingers twitched in her hand, and he made a gurgling sound.

He was bleeding out in the middle of the countryside. No doctors. No magical healing was going to happen here. He was dying. And there was nothing she could do about it. Unless she could.

"Soul , can you hear me? I need you to sit up." Nothing. "Soul? Listen up, you stupid thing!" _Nothing_. "Soul Eater Evans, I swear on the freaking sun and moon I will ki-"_ Kill you?_ He was already there.

And there was no way he was going to be able to get up. Even if he somehow did, they would still have to make the long hike back to Death City, and that was miles away. He would die before that.

"You can't die on me, Soul! You can't do this to me!" She lifted his head, shook his shoulders, but nothing came out of his mouth, not even air. He wasn't breathing.

Maka blew oxygen into his starved lungs, but they didn't rise and fall like they should. They stayed flat, and she realized with a shock that one of his lungs had been punctured, if not both of them. And he had been less than an inch from having his heart stabbed, too. This wasn't going to be an easy death. For a moment, Maka wanted to just end his pain, and then she wanted to end her own pain for even letting that thought pass through her mind. Why hadn't the witch killed him properly? Why let him suffer like this?

It wasn't to make him suffer, it was to make _her_.

"You're okay," she said. "You're okay. You're okay."

_You're okay. You're okay. You're okay. You're okay._

"I love you," Maka said to him simply and to his slackened, clammy hands, his pale hair like strands of woven moonlight, the patch on his jacket from the DWMA, the sharp nose and strong jaw that she had spent so much time gazing at, his lips. Blood gathered at this side of his mouth, and she wiped it away before kissing him.

Their first kiss, and he was unconscious.

The first time she ever confessed her romantic feelings for him, and he was dead.

He was _dead_.

Lifeless, departed, deceased, lost, gone, six feet under, pushing daisies.

And he hadn't heard her say it.

Not even once.

She cried for hours, holding him in her arms, breathing in his smell, pressing her lips to his skin and the top of his hair, his temple, his cheeks, where a small amount of stubble was starting to appear. He was just a teenager. Not even eighteen, and he would never turn that number. He would be stuck at eighteen minus one forever.

She would never be able to throw him his birthday party.

There would have been cake. Balloons. Amazing food, even more amazing presents. Friends. Laughter. He would be happy. Everyone would be happy that he was happy.

Maka spent a while planning a party in her head while she watched the sun come up, beams of straw-colored light streaming in through the curtains.

* * *

She laid there for so long she forgot that she could even move. Her legs were dead weights, her arms stiff. The body of her partner was in her lap. He was soaked with red. Red and white. Red blood, white hair. Mostly red clothes.

* * *

She was staring at the same place for fifteen minutes before they got her to move when they found them. It was Sid, or Nygus, maybe. Or Kid. Possibly even Black Star and Tsubaki. Maka didn't notice. All she knew was a blur of people around her, ordering her to get up. She didn't, or couldn't, move. She was a statue. Maybe if she sat still enough, they would go away.

They didn't.

"Maka, get up."

_No_.

"Maka, you need to get up. Step away from Soul."

_You_ need to step away from Soul.

"Don't touch him," she snarled as they reached forward. In her eyes, they were all just trying to get him, trying to take him away from her. She wasn't going to let that happen.

"Let go of him, Maka." Gentle, coaxing voices, but to her it seemed more like angry yells, stabbing like knives or like the spikes that made a hole in both of their hearts.

"No."

"You need to let go."

"_No_."

She was never going to let him go. He didn't belong to anyone else. No one knew him like she had. No one loved him like she had.

"Get away from me," she shouted hoarsely, holding his head tight to her chest. She shut her eyes and prayed that it would all be over. When she opened her eyes, she would be back in their apartment with Soul knocking on her bedroom door complaining about how they were going to be late unless she got a move on. She would make fried eggs and toast, and he would eat silently while she chattered about school and classes and their friends, and then they would walk together and talk all the way.

She was almost there. She could smell the breakfast, feel the hot sun beating down on them as they walked up the steps.

She would be home soon. In:

_3…_

_2…_

_1…_

And then it all stopped.

* * *

"It's been three months."

The trees are losing their leaves, the wind leaves behind a chill wherever it goes, and nightfall comes sooner and sooner. The days grow shorter and shorter. Maka wakes up screaming almost every night, although it's not as bad as it was when it first started. Tsubaki has stopped sleeping over at her place to make sure she's okay.

She is okay. She's better now.

"I miss you."

She's better than she was before.

"We're all having a get together for Halloween. That's close to your birthday, huh? Well, you're still older than me. I have to wait until January." She pauses. "It's going to be really fun. We're carving pumpkins and dressing up and making a lot of food. You know how Black Star is. He'd probably eat the pumpkins if we let him.

"It's cold now. I… I had to go in your room the other day. Your window was open, so I went in to shut it, and I," her voice crackled like the crunchy potato chip leaves colored orange and gold and red and bronze. "I found some of your old stuff in a box under your bed. Don't get mad at me for snooping. It was just there. I found a couple records of yours. Those old jazz ones that you like. I can't stop listening to them. I put them on every day. It's kind of like you're there with me." Maka shuffles her feet. "And your letterman jacket. Remember that thing? You practically lived in it. It's completely gross. It smells like you. Everything in your room does. I've started sleeping in there. It makes me less scared. You've always made me feel safe, somehow. Isn't that kind of silly? Nobody else thinks so, but I just don't understand it. I think it's because you always protected me from everyone. I never got to thank you for that." A lump grew in Maka's throat. "And I meant it. When I said I love you. You're the most important person in the whole world to me, even though you're gone. I love you more than anything. I can't show you, but even if you were still here, I don't think I would be able to. I'm not so good with that kind of stuff.

"I just wish you were here."

She set the carton down by the stone and turned her back.

"You still owe me ice cream."

A pint of triple cherry chocolate chip ice cream melted slowly into the grass. Wilted flowers, replaced by new flowers which were now wilting again, were plucked from their spot and replaced with more.

* * *

_Don't let the sun catch you cryin'_

_The night's the time for all your tears_

_Your heart may be broken tonight_

_But tomorrow in the morning light_

_Don't let the sun catch you cryin'_


End file.
